


Outer Space

by heartbreakgirl



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: ... but not quite, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, M/M, Neck Kissing, Pining, Unrequited Love, chest licking, why is that not already a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 12:44:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11806260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbreakgirl/pseuds/heartbreakgirl
Summary: this took me over 3 weeks to finish and in those 3 weeks i wrote and rewrote and deleted and restarted way too many times to count and get this - i'm STILL not completely satisfied with the outcome BUT! i'm posting it now anywayenjoy the #gayp.s. outer space is their best song you can fight me





	Outer Space

**Author's Note:**

> this took me over 3 weeks to finish and in those 3 weeks i wrote and rewrote and deleted and restarted way too many times to count and get this - i'm STILL not completely satisfied with the outcome BUT! i'm posting it now anyway
> 
> enjoy the #gay
> 
> p.s. outer space is their best song you can fight me

Kissing Luke was like kissing an angel. A soft, pliant little angel perfectly satisfied with Michael taking the lead. Because that's exactly what Luke was. An angel. A real life angel, and the best part?  _ Michael's  _ real life angel.

A few things have changed.

For starters, Luke's no longer little. No, he's tall - taller than Michael - and lean and broad shouldered and could very easily flick Michael off the face of the earth, if he wanted to.

To elaborate, he isn't really easy to control anymore. He's, like,  _ his own person _ now and Michael doesn't know how to feel. Luke used to follow him around everywhere, much to his faux annoyance, used to listen to everything he said and do everything  _ he _ wanted to do.

Luke tagged along wherever Michael went. Luke wanted to stay home when Michael did. Luke laughed at his jokes when nobody else did. Luke copied his fucking instagram bio, fucking hell.

_ Now  _ he's making his own decisions without Michael and doing things with people that aren't Michael and it's weird and off putting and Michael doesn't know what to think.

Instead of just rolling his eyes and cuddling up closer to Michael after he's called him a loser and told him to  _ shut up _ , Luke answers back with something equally playfully mean. What the  _ hell. _

Maybe Michael's just a control freak and he should stop being such a damn creep about it all but he can't help it. He misses Tiny Luke. He was Tiny Luke's favourite person.

Luke's still an  _ angel  _ though. Just maybe not  _ Michael's  _ angel.

They stopped kissing a while ago after they decided it wasn't worth risking their careers for. It sucks balls but Michael tries not to let it bother him too much.

(It really, really does.)

/

“Hey, guys, we're off to the club downtown, you down?”

Michael doesn't have to think once before shaking his head no, let alone think twice. Luke's already jumping up and throwing on his jacket, leaving Michael's bed and taking his warmth with him.  _ Ugh. _

“Come  _ on,  _ Mike.” Calum pleads.

Michael tries not to roll his eyes (well, tries not to roll them too _ hard,  _ that is). “You know that's not my scene. Go have fun.”

They all hesitate, especially Luke. He's eyeing Michael like he feels  _ sorry  _ for him and Michael hates it with a passion.

“Go!” he snaps, and Calum sighs as him and the other two make their way out of his and Luke's shared hotel room slowly.

“See ya.” Luke's voice is soft and quiet and it's  _ that  _ voice he uses with Michael and only Michael and he knows there's a little comforting smile on Luke's face right now because he can practically hear it and he doesn't need comforting, goddammit. So he doesn't look at him. Which is a pretty smart move, since he knows he'd probably see the little dimple poking out and burst into tears or something equally humiliating.

(That's happened before.)

\

It's 4am and - unsurprisingly, just as expected - the guys still aren't back yet.

Michael would never admit he's bored because that's, like, admitting defeat. And he  _ knows  _ anyway that joining them at the club wouldn't have been any better. He hates clubs.

The music they play is always  _ god awful  _ and the sweaty drunks dancing to it are even worse. The drinks there are always disgusting and Michael would much rather get drunk on his own thank you.

He'd made the sorry mistake of actually tagging along once and spent the entire night glued to the bar, watching Luke get hit on by girls and guys alike and trying not to destroy the cup in his hand (and also trying not to cry, because Luke  _ flirted back  _ a lot of the time and Michael's too manly to admit that it made his chest hurt a bit).

Clubs are just  _ terrible  _ and Michael hates them. He'd take being lonely and bored over that shit any day.

It's almost 5 when Luke finally stumbles through the door, giggling and almost falling flat on his face.

Michael totally doesn't rush up to help him regain balance and walk him over to his bed. He doesn't help get his shoes and jacket off and ease him out of his unreasonably skinny jeans, definitely doesn't tuck him safely into bed.  _ Does not  _ pull the covers up to his chin and peck his forehead softly.

(He does all of that.)

/

He wakes to the sound of Luke retching in the hotel bathroom. Beautiful.

Sighing, he turns over onto his stomach and attempts getting back to sleep. He does not want to, and will  _ not  _ get out of bed right now to help Luke. That is not what he's going to do.

Luke bought this on himself - he went out and drank his body weight in beverages and didn't stop, _ knowing  _ this would happen. It's his own fault and these are the consequences. So.  _ No.  _ Michael's staying right the fuck here in his warm bed and that's that. Screw Luke.

The retching stops for a full minute but Luke's not emerged from the bathroom yet. Michael hates the feeling that rises slowly up his chest. Fucking, _Fuck. Fuck Luke._ _Why is he worried about him right now. Why does he have to_ care _so much_.

His self hatred postpones itself at the sight of Luke curled up in a ball by the sink, knees against his chest and head pressed in between them. He looks so  _ small  _ when Michael knows for a fact he isn't and now Michael's chest is hurting. Dammit, Luke.

He thinks of a million things to say, like  _ you alright?  _ and  _ is your head okay?  _ and  _ how you holdin up, Lukey?  _ “I wanna say I told you so but I never really told you so,” is what ends up coming out. Welcome back, self hatred.

Luke looks up at him, glaring weakly. “Whatever.” His voice is croaky and cracked from throwing up. “You should've come. Woulda been better with you there.”

Michael inwardly braces himself for all the other things he knows Luke's gonna say during this conversation. Hungover Luke is always honest and open, saying things that everyday Luke would never, and it's both scary and satisfying.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs.

“Cal and Ash went off with these hot model chicks.” Luke continues, tucking his knees further into his chest and managing to make himself look even smaller. Michael has to ball his hands into fists to stop from wrapping him up and cuddling him.

“And you?” he asks, because he knows he'll get the truth.

Luke shrugs and rests his chin on one knee. “Just chilled. Wasn't in the mood for that.” Luke R. Hemmings; only male in existence to  _ not be in the ‘mood’ for hooking up with a sexy model.  _ “That's why I wish you came. Felt alone and it sucked.” Something cracks inside his chest and Michael refuses to acknowledge that it's his heart.

Luke  _ had  _ been more drunk than usual. Maybe his only company was alcohol so he consumed more than he normally would. Michael frowned.  _ Screw Cal and Ash. _

“Why… why me, though? I'm boring at clubs.”

Luke's dimple cuts through his cheek. Michael quickly looks away.  _ Not right now. Not today. Not  _ ever. “You are boring at clubs.” It's that soft voice again. The one that's exclusively Michael's. “But when I'm with you I'm happy. And safe. And not lonely.”

When Michael's heart picks up and his stomach starts twisting in that pleasant/unpleasant way it does all he can think is  _ screw you Luke screw you screw you screw you _ .

Part of him  _ genuinely  _ hates Luke in that moment for a reason he can't really place. He vaguely hears a voice in his head say  _ if you're so happy with me why do you always leave.  _ But he pretends not to hear.

“Okay, loser.” His voice doesn't shake, it  _ does not. _

(It trembles.)

\

The same thing happens again 2 nights later, in a different hotel in a different city.

Michael's so beyond tired all he wants to do is curl up underneath the sheets with Luke and  _ sleep. _ Luke seems on board with the idea, until -

“Lads! There's this cool bar up the street with live music and everything, tag along?”

Michael despises the hope that filled his lungs when Luke slightly hesitated, because the next minute Luke is nodding and doing his jacket back up, like his and Michael's silent agreement didn't even happen.

Michael doesn't care that the disappointment probably shows on his face.

Luke's too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, anyway. And Calum’s busy scrolling through his phone.

Ashton's frowning at him, though. “Mike? You comin’?” Why they still ask when they  _ know _ , he'll never get.

“Tired.”

He nods, understanding. “You'll be okay?”

_ Gosh.  _ What is he to them, a fucking 5 year old? “Yeah.”

(He isn't.)

(He cries himself to sleep.)

/

“How we feelin’ tonight?!”

The crowd collectively screams in reply. It's beautifully deafening and Michael will never get used to it, nor will he ever grow sick of it.

They're only a few songs in and already Michael's sweating through his shirt, and to his left he can see that Luke is, too. But when Luke sweats he looks like an angel. Michael can't say the same for himself.

“Alright this is one of my favourites off the album it's called Waste the Night.” More cheers, even louder now.

This is Luke's _moment._ Michael gets Jet Black Heart, and Calum gets Amnesia. But Waste the Night is all Luke and it's one of Michael's favourite parts of the entire show.

Luke's just. So  _ pretty.  _ All the time, but especially in his element. Singing with such  _ passion _ it takes Michael's breath away. He's larger than life and Michael sees himself in all the fans screaming their heads off in the first few rows.  _ Me too  _ he thinks, when he sees a whole section of girls repeatedly yelling  _ OH MY GOD OH MY FUCKING GOD  _ when Luke's singing right in front of them.

It's a miracle he doesn't mess up any chords, or miss his cue later on because he's positively  _ ogling  _ Luke. Sounds Live Feels Live has improved his multi-tasking skills massively and he will forever be grateful.

Calum’s confronted him once, telling him he needs to  _ keep the eye fucking low key  _ because  _ we can't have a Larry 2.0 on our hands. _ He'd casually told him to  _ fuck off _ and went back to single player FIFA.

He sees Calum’s point, though.

It's a physical effort to steer his eyes away from the boy. He only does so when he absolutely has to, just to sing his solo and then he's back at it. Making heart eyes that'll be a right bitch to deny later on, but right in that moment he can't care less.

And to think, one of Michael's 2016 new year's resolutions was to  _ stop staring so much at Luke. _

(He's failed every single day since then.)

\

They get into a heated argument in the dressing room over  _ pizza _ and it's far from the first time this has happened. _ _ Michael thinks - knows - he's justified.

“I reached for it first!”

“I  _ thought _ about reaching for it first.”

“Doesn't count.” Michael snatches the slice back and quickly takes a bite, claiming it.

Luke scoffs. “You think that'll put me off? Nice try, babe.” And he's on him in a flash.

Michael's taking the biggest bites he can manage, trying to finish it all before Luke can -  _ oh. _

There's a leg between his thighs, suddenly, pressing against him. He stops mid-bite, looking up wide-eyed at Luke's smirking face. Without warning Luke pushes his leg forwards and Michael's mouth falls open, and the near half eaten slice is out of his hands and inside Luke's mouth before he can fully comprehend the situation.

His brain doesn't fully catch up with what the living hell just happened until Luke's shoving what's left of the slice into his abnormally big mouth and smugly dusting his hands off.

“I fucking hate you.”

“Sure,” Luke grins around his mouthful. Gross.

“You're disgusting.” He looks away from him before the dimple can make an appearance.

_ “Tell me, tell me, tell me somethin’ I don't know, somethin’ I don't know, someth - “ _

“Shut  _ up.” _

“... And dance with you?”

Michael rolls his eyes. Luke's clearly the biggest loser on earth, couldn't he have fallen in deep mad love with someone else? Like Ashton, maybe. Ashton's stable.

“No, just please shut up and never open your mouth again.”

“Who'll sing my solos then, though?” Jesus Christ.

“Calum.”

“Someone say my name?” Calum plops down on the couch opposite, seeming to come out of nowhere but Michael knows it's just because he was so focused on Luke he didn't hear anyone come in. Stupid Luke.

“Michael wants me to never open my mouth again so you're gonna have to sing my solos.”

Calum raises both eyebrows, eying Michael. “You sure you want his mouth shut forever? I mean, won't you kinda need it wiiiide open for - “

_ "Screw all of you bye.” _

He hears Calum’s laughter and Luke's  _ love you too, Mikey!  _ as he pretty much storms out of the dressing room and makes his way to the bus. Yep, he really, truly hates Luke.

(He really, truly doesn't.)

/

Something almost life changing happens two shows later.

They've just come off stage after the final bow, adrenaline still pumping through their veins. Ashton's singing off tune at the tops of his lungs and Luke and Michael are laughing at him. Calum’s snapchatting the scene.

Michael's full of energy. There's absolutely no way he could fall asleep now, or ever it seems. He's on top of the world and he feels like he could do anything. Maybe even fly. Luke looks like he relates.

_ "That," _ Luke begins, pointing behind him at nothing in particular, “was the best show we've ever played.” He sounds almost drunk, but Michael knows it's just a high from the concert; he gets it too.

“You said that yesterday.” Calum snorts.

_ "And  _ the day before that.” Ashton adds.

Michael just smiles and nods at him, silently agreeing. He really does think it was their best show. The crowd was insane. Luke interacted with him even more than usual, and whenever he caught Michael staring - more than once - he'd grinned and playfully wiggled his eyebrows, making 2 thoughts take over Michael's brain at once ( _ loser  _ and  _ i love you so much _ ). He'd sung  _ extra  _ passionately and sounded  _ extra  _ good, and by Luke standards that's unbelievable.

“Get. A. Room.” Calum’s voices cuts his ‘eye fucking’ short (it is  _ not  _ eye fucking. It's… eye loving.  _ Eye appreciating) _ .

Michael feels too happy and light to respond sarcastically or rudely. All he can see is Luke, and all he can hear is Luke's giggle, everything else is nonexistent.

He hears Calum and Ashton grumble something about being  _ sick and tired of third wheeling _ and then they're suddenly no longer in the room with them and it's just Michael and Luke alone. Luke is prettier than usual which is unfair and uncalled for. His hair is sweaty and his eyes are shiny and his lips are - fuck,  _ coming closer? _

Luke's mouth is mere centimeters from his own, and the blue of his eyes is so close he can see every dot and speck circulating in the orbs and Michael's suddenly being hit with a powerful wave of deja vu that's too much to handle. So he does what he does best.

He falls backwards and nearly lands flat on his backside. He doesn't, though, because Luke's strong arms grab hold of him and stop it from happening. “Jesus, Mike. You alright?”

“Yes. Yeah,” he shakily breathes.

(No, he isn't alright.)

\

(Luke seems to forget all about the almost-kiss that's basically haunted Michael everyday since but whatever. It's totally cool.)

/

_ “I can still taste the ocean… like it was today…” _

Michael loves Outer Space, because it's how he feels about Luke.

Performing it is nostalgic and emotional and sometimes just sad for him. But he loves it. He'd never actually call it his favourite, especially in public interviews, because then he'd have to give a reason why and that would just be disastrous.

_ “I will wait for you, to love me again.” _

He always tries to sing his portion of the song without looking at Luke at all, training his eyes determinedly to the front. He feels pathetic enough with the past week and he doesn't need gif sets and photos all over tumblr and twitter of him practically confessing his undying love with his eyes.

_ “I guess I was runnin’, from somethin’, I was runnin’ back to you.” _

They lock gazes suddenly, and Michael quickly goes to look away but the look in Luke's eyes is so intense it makes Michael's heart jump in his chest. He's too far away to read the look, but close enough to feel the intensity of it. Swallowing him whole. Making him shiver. Luke breaks it quickly enough for it not to be a potential twitter trend (but who knows).

_ “I'm still runnin’ back to you.” _

The crowd is yelling the lyrics back even louder than usual (so quite freakin’ loud), but somehow all Michael hears is Luke's confident, angelic vocals, echoing throughout the arena.

It should be concerning, really; he's in a large venue packed with thousands of fans and his  _ three _ other band mates - but all he sees and hears, and all he'll ever see and hear, is Luke. Only Luke.

_ “If you could love me again, I could let go of everything.” _

(He would.)

\

They're lounging on Michael's bed watching but not really watching TV and it's really not a life-changing day so far, until it is.

Ashton, the fucker, barges into their hotel room like he has so many times before with Calum on his heels. They ask the inevitable. “Party downtown. You guys comin’?”

Michael shakes his head  _ no  _ \- not life-changing at all. Luke shaking his head  _ no  _ and telling them he's  _ staying in with Michael  _ tonight, now  _ that  _ is one for the books.

He's caught between the joy of not having to lose Luke's warmth against his side tonight and pure utter confusion because  _ what. _

Ashton and Calum don't seem as stricken. Ashton just shrugs and Calum waves goodbye to them both.  _ What. _

Michael can't believe it. Did they just cross over to some alternate dimension? All he can think is  _ what the fuck?  _ and he must say it loud because Luke turns to him, frown etched on his face.

“Huh?”

“You don't wanna party?”

“Wanna be here with you.”

The world stops spinning - well, Michael's does. He feels it in the way his heart starts punching against his ribcage like it's fighting to escape his body and his breath catching in his throat.  _ What. _

“Oh. Okay.”

Luke's biting his lip, the way he does when he's nervous and about to do something he deems life-changing. He seems to remember that Michael can basically read him like a book, because he quickly releases it and tries to look nonchalant. Michael gulps.

“Let's. Let's watch a movie.”

“Okay.”

They're 20 minutes into the movie Michael's already forgotten the name of.He sneaks a glance at Luke and sees him looking back.

“Michael,” he breathes quietly, after a few minutes of just staring. He phrases it like a question, and he sounds so nervous, afraid. It's unsettling.

Michael doesn't respond.

“Michael.” He repeats it only slightly louder. He places both hands in his lap.

“Luke.” It's a whisper, barely loud enough for even himself to hear. He doesn't recognise his own voice.

Luke looks away from him, eyes fixating on the hands in his lap. He takes a deep breath that he doesn't seem to let go, before speaking again. Or, attempting to speak, because no words come out.

Michael's so on edge. The film is white noise now. “Luke,” he says again, and it's in the same whispery tone.

Luke breathes out shakily. He seems to pause for a second, thinking, before he's reaching over and taking one of Michael's hands. He brings it to his lap, where his own hands had been resting. He intertwines their fingers slowly, and squeezes.

Every nerve in Michael's body comes alive at the touch. Michael doesn't understand how he's still breathing.

Then Luke's shifting even closer and - oh, _God - straddling_ Michael's thighs so they're no longer shoulder to shoulder but chest to chest and now Michael's _not_ breathing at all. He _can't._

Luke's face is the closest it's been in a really long time and it's impossible to take in. He could count off each and every one of his eyelashes if he wanted.

Michael's eyes are wide and his left hand is still laced with Luke's right. He feels lightheaded, he feels  _ drunk  _ when he hasn't had a single sip of alcohol all night.

Luke's opening his mouth and no words are coming out again. In any other situation Michael would roll his eyes and snap at him to  _ spit it out already.  _ Right now he can barely think.

It feels like a decade when he finally hears his voice again. “Are you…” gulp. “Do you… want. Wanna.”

Michael's positive he  _ does  _ want whatever it is Luke's trying to get at. In fact he thinks he  _ knows _ what he's trying to get at. He could put him out of his misery right now, but he won't take the risk.

“Wanna what?” he's surprised at how raspy his own voice sounds, like it's been grated away.

Luke shivers. “Fuck.” He shuts his eyes and starts leaning forward slowly, and Michael's stomach does so many backflips and somersaults that it almost hurts.

It feels like a lifetime later when their lips finally meet. It _has_ been a lifetime, because Michael's been waiting since the last time they kissed and that was far too long ago to recall.

Luke's lips are so, so soft, softer than Michael remembers and it makes him  _ emotional.  _ He's really about to start crying mid-kiss, that's how much of a friggin’ pathetic loser he is.

The kiss is every cliché in existence. Lips fitting together perfectly. Sparks. Fireworks. Weak knees, racing heart. Butterflies (the whole damn zoo, rioting).

Michael's wanted it for  _ so long; _ it's like sinking into sleep after a long day, or finally tasting something you've been craving all week.

It's too soon when they're both pulling away at near enough the same time (only because  _ air _ , otherwise Michael would never pull away. He'd kiss Luke until his lungs gave out and then he'd keep going). Luke's breathless, resting his forehead gently against Michael's with his eyes still firmly closed.

The dimple makes an appearance and now Michael really does start crying.  _ Pathetic. _

No one says anything for a long time. Luke's eyes remain shut and Michael's thankful because he's still crying and he doesn't need Luke witnessing the height of his patheticness.

His heart is beating so fast it's slightly worrying. Maybe he's about to have a heart attack, go into cardiac arrest.  _ Death by kissing.  _ The idea is so funny he breathes out a laugh. It comes out as more of a hiccup, and Luke's eyes suddenly fly open like he's just remembering where he is.

“Mike - ? Wait, why are you crying? Did I -  _ fuck,  _ I'm so sorry, Mikey, I knew I shouldn't have, I, I just really wan - “

Michael surprises them both by pulling Luke towards him by his jaw and capturing his lips in another gentle kiss. Luke's still for a second, still shocked, and then he's pouring back  _ everything  _ into the kiss. Turning it from gentle to  _ hungry _ , tentative to desperate.

It's overwhelming in the greatest way. He feels it in every part of his body, from the tips of his toes to every last strand of hair atop his head. He feels electrified,like a fuse meeting a live wire. He can't  _ believe _ he'd managed to go so long without this -  _ how? _

Luke kisses with meaning and purpose and it's like - it's like kissing an  _ angel. _

It feels like hours later when Luke's pulling away with a gasp, yet still too soon.

Before Michael can open his mouth Luke's kissing it again, quick and soft, before retracting completely and moving down his body. Michael's heart surges when he realises what's happening - what's  _ going  _ to happen.

He hadn't even realised he was half hard in his jeans until now. He's such a 14 year old and it's disgusting and shameful.

Within the next 5 minutes Michael's jeans are shoved just below his knees, along with his boxers (TMNT ones, he didn't know this would  _ be happening okay)  _ and Luke's got his dick in his fist. Jesus.

His breaths are shallow and laboured. His fingers are already gripping at the sheets and Luke's mouth isn't even on him.  _ Fuck. Luke's probably gonna put his mouth on him. _

He does. Like he's read Michael's mind - Michael wouldn't be surprised if he really could - he's licking a stripe up the side and pressing a kiss to the head. Then he's taking his entire cock down his throat without any warning.

_ “Fuck.” _

Luke's so good it shouldn't be legal. He sucks dick just like he kisses, with meaning and purpose and  _ vigor _ , like it's his one job (and it would be, if it were up to Michael).

Michael can't wrap his head around anything. It might not even be happening as far as he knows. This might just be a fantasy his mind is conjuring and him and Luke are actually still watching the film and Luke's probably weirded out by Michael and trying to get his attention but Michael's just too busy imagining this scenario where Luke's sucking his cock and he's gonna shoot down his throat. Lovely.

“Holy f - fuck,  _ Luke. _ ” he's practically incoherent and so far gone to the point where he can't even think to be embarrassed by the things coming out of his mouth.

Luke's cheeks are hollowed now and he's bobbing his head back and forth with remarkable speed, seemingly adamant on making Michael come. Michael can't look away. It's obscene when Luke looks up through his lashes and works to take him down even further, barely even blinking.  _ God, has Luke done this before? _ He has to have done, and Michael really doesn't want to know when or who with.

He's writhing too much and moaning too loud but there's no space for embarrassment right now. He feels way too good to care.

It's when he feels the familiar sensation in his lower stomach that he realises he'd  _ love  _ to come like this, down Luke's throat, watching him swallow it down and getting to taste himself on Luke's tongue. But there's a possibility that he may never see an opportunity like this again, and he wants something else even more.

It takes a lot to push lightly at Luke's shoulder and urgently whisper, “Luke, stop, stop.”

Luke listens, pulling off with a frown. Michael can't have that. He pulls Luke back up his body and reattaches their mouths, chasing his own flavour. He sighs softly. “Want more than that. Want it all.”

For some reason he regrets his choice of wording instantly, worried that he might’ve went a bit too far. Took the whole situation a little too serious when Luke was probably just a little horny and needed a dick in his mouth -

“Me too. God, me too, Mikey. Want you,” he breathes, “want you to fuck me.”  _ Well. _

The words go right to his dick and he's groaning against Luke's mouth, nodding and hastily flipping them over. He takes his jeans and boxers off the rest of the way and chucks them carelessly to the side.

Luke's already working to remove his own clothes, starting with his shirt and Michael's surprised at his own breath hitching at the sight of him shirtless. God, he's  _ seen  _ him shirtless - like, everyday of his life. Maybe a little less than he's seen Ashton and Calum shirtless because they're weirdos and love walking around half-naked (sometimes just butt naked) but he's  _ definitely  _ seen him shirtless before. Of course.

Maybe it's the situation. The fact that he's gonna get to do  _ more  _ than just look now, he'll get to  _ touch, _ run his hands all over his chest and down the expanse of his back.

He doesn't realise he's staring until Luke's saying his name quietly. He's blushing a deep red, and Michael can't help but notice how the flush runs down all the way to his upper chest. He's so beautiful, and all Michael's.

“Stop.” Luke whispers, lips twitching. “You always do that.”

“What?”

“Stare. Like all the time.” He blushes deeper. “Stop.”

Now Michael's blushing, too. “Would if I fuckin could, trust me.” And then he surges forward and captures Luke's mouth with his own again, before Luke can laugh at him or do anything.

Seeing Luke shirtless was always glorious and it constantly left Michael with a desire to lick - yes,  _ lick  _ \- up his chest and taste every inch of his torso, but he'd somehow managed to keep himself under control. Now he no longer has to.

He reluctantly ends their kiss, moves down to his jaw and presses his lips there for a second. Then he's sucking lightly at his neck, mouth wet and sloppy against the soft, sensitive flesh. Luke's humming softly above him, eyes shut and a blissed out expression on his face.

When Michael's done with his neck he moves back a bit to observe, and it's beautiful - what are light red marks now will be dark purple bruises tomorrow. The mere thought excites Michael.

He does what he wants to do before he can over think himself out of it.

He presses his tongue flat against the middle of Luke's chest. He looks up just in time to catch his eyes flying open in surprise, then he shuts his own eyes completely.  _ Jesus, Luke's probably gonna think this is just plain weird and stop him soon so he may as well enjoy it while it lasts.  _ Heck. This could just be another dream.

He starts running his tongue up and down the centre of Luke's chest slowly. He can feel Luke's heavy breathing by the quick rise and fall of his stomach underneath him, and it gives him a rush to know it's  _ him  _ making Luke react that way, him making him pant. Nobody else. Him.

“Michael… what - “ he doesn't finish because Michael's attaching his mouth to one of his nipples and sucking around it. He gasps and his mouth falls and stays open.

Michael moves to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment before he's licking back down Luke's body and reaching his stomach. He laps at it, like a cat would its milk, loving the way Luke hums and sighs above him.

He loves Luke's tummy. He's somewhere in between all of them - not completely toned and defined like Ashton and Calum’s, but also not as puffy and soft as Michael's. Michael thinks it's perfect. He says so.

“You're perfect,” he mumbles it softly against his stomach, which he's now nuzzling his face into and pressing sloppy kisses over, revelling in the way Luke squirms and giggles and complains that  _ that tickles Mikey stooop _ . He's a 6 footer with the broadest shoulders anyone's ever seen but he's still Michael's angel and he will always be.

When he's done sucking a few marks onto his chest Michael hovers above him again, taking in his flushed appearance. Luke's pink-faced, eyes darker than usual and just so  _ blue  _ it knocks the air from his lungs and makes him question everything. God.  _ Fuck. This is happening right now. This is really happening. _

He hasn't quite believed it yet, still convinced it's all a dream. He's either asleep or staring into space imagining the entire scenario. Because there is no way this is  _ actually happening holy fuck. _

_ “Michaeeeellll,” _ Luke's whining, “you're staring again,  _ stooop _ .”

Michael's never been more in love with anyone. In fact, he's pretty damn sure he'd never felt real love before he loved Luke. In  _ fact,  _ he thinks he loved Luke before he knew Luke, before he was even born, back when he was nothing but a jumble of cells inside his Mother's womb and Luke didn't exist at all, he was always destined to love him.

He's too scared to say it out loud, though, so he decides to show him instead, and just prays Luke will understand.

They're kissing again before Luke can process any of it and the little gasp followed by the satisfied sigh that leaves him makes Michael's heart swell. He's going to make Luke feel amazing.

He must say that out loud without realising, because Luke moans against his lips and nods vigorously, whimpering out a  _ please, Mikey _ that makes Michael feel hot all over.

As turned on as he may be, and as much as he wants Luke in this moment, Michael isn't  _ stupid.  _ If he's about to jump into  _ sex  _ \- with a person he  _ deeply _ cares about - he's gonna do it safely, and smartly. Sex is a big deal, and this is  _ Luke  _ here, the person he's been in mad love with since the beginning of time and if there's a time to be reckless well, this is not it. He's about to do this shit  _ right _ .

Step One: Lube and Condoms.

He's  totally  about to kill the mood, but it'll be worth it. “Gonna go get the stuff, back quick.” Yes, he carries lube around with him (what self-respecting gayboy doesn't?) it’s travel size and lavender scented and oh-so-convenient, so people can judge all they want, but who's  _ really  _ winning at the end of the day? And come on,  _ not  _ carrying  _ condoms  _ is just plain irresponsible on anyones part.

He's back to the bed as quick as he left it, and back on Luke even quicker. He can't seem to get enough of kissing him and nobody can blame him, it's been  _ years  _ and all he'd done was  _ long long long  _ for the taste of his lips, now he's getting it and he can't,  _ won't _ stop for a second.

“I need you to be sure, Luke,” he breathes softly, “this isn't… this isn't something you rush into. You have to really, really want this.” He tries not to look  _ too _ hopeful, because Luke's a giant old people pleaser and sometimes he does things for others just because he knows  _ they _ want it, when he doesn't want it at all himself and Michael would never forgive himself if Luke felt the need to sleep with him just because  _ he  _ wanted it.

But Luke's nodding his head so fast and kissing Michael rough and desperate, the need practically radiating off his body in waves that reach Michael and make him shiver. “‘M sure, I'm so sure, Mikey. Want this so bad, wanted it forever.” _ Fuck. _

“Shit. Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Things almost feel like they're going in slow-motion as Michael's popping the cap open and spreading a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and rubbing them together. Luke's so eager, spreading his legs wide open enough for Michael to fit in between them and when the first finger prods lightly at his entrance, he barely resists, lets it slide in without much struggle because he's so  _ relaxed  _ and he  _ trusts  _ Michael with his life. It makes Michael want to wrap him up and snuggle him and protect him and just  _ love _ him, goddammit.

He opens him slowly and thoroughly, watching his face closely and listening carefully to the sounds he makes so he can be sure he isn't hurting him at all. He needs this to be  _ perfect _ , wants to make Luke feel  _ perfect _ .

He has Luke writhing all over the sheets and high-pitched moaning in no time, and it's such a sight that Michael's subconsciously rutting against the mattress. He's got three fingers buried deep in Luke's hole, curling and scissoring and looking for that one spot he knows will make Luke  _ scream  _ -

_ “Michael!” _ There it is.

He removes his fingers then, leaving Luke to clench around air. He's so far gone, all he can think is  _ LukeLukeLukeLukeLuke. _

“Fuck, I'm ready, Michael, come on.”

Michael's nodding so fast he's surprised his head doesn't flop right off. “Fuck, okay. Okay.”

He's retrieving the condom and rolling it on and now all he can think is  _ what the hell oh God is this really fucking happening right now oh God oh God oh GOD.  _ He's surprised he manages to get the shit on.

He squeezes some more lube onto his fingers and lathers it up his cock, hissing as he strokes. He makes the mistake of looking at Luke as he's doing this, and the look on his face is so  _ hungry  _ and desperate Michael's lucky he doesn't blow his load right then and there. But he's squeezing his eyes shut and stilling the hand on his dick before he can make a right fucking fool of himself.

He realises he's probably not gonna last as long as he wants, but oh, well.

He lines himself up, hovering over Luke, their faces only inches apart. His cocks not even grazing the rim yet and Luke's already whining.  _ Dammit.  _ He's really not going to last.

“Mikey, Mikey, hurry. Just -  _ oh, fuck. _ ”

He's only a quarter of the way in and he's already  _ close _ , Jesus fucking Christ. He blames it on his lack of action - how's he supposed to build up respectable stamina when he barely gets laid?

When he's halfway in, he stops and looks down at Luke, studying him. His eyes are squeezed tight shut, and his breaths are shallow. Michael shakily sighs.

“Shit, baby, you alright?” the nickname rolls of his tongue so effortlessly it feels natural.

Luke opens his eyes and stares up at Michael in what looks to be awe. “You're so -  _ fuck -  _ big.”

Michael flushes, trying not to let it get to his head. But come on, he's a  _ guy  _ and being told his dicks big is going to affect his ego a bit. “You okay?”

“Yes, yeah, keep going,  _ please. _ ” And who is he to refuse that?

He finally bottoms out and has to rest his forehead against Luke's and take deep breaths to calm himself down because  _ holy shit  _ Luke's tight and warm and he's really  _ inside  _ him right now.  _ He's inside Luke. His dick is inside Luke. _

The room feels a million times hotter than it did 10 minutes ago and Michael's almost dizzy with how tight Luke feels around him. He's certain he could've prepped him for hours straight and it wouldn't make a difference, but who's complaining?

“Move, Michael.”

He moves.

It's slow, arguably too slow, but  _ so good.  _ Luke is so warm and so tight and he clenches in all the right places so Michael sees stars. He feels like he's floating, like he's in space. He's fucked people before,  _ been  _ fucked, too, but it was never like this. He knows it's because he loves Luke, and it's more than just a mindless fuck when you're in love with someone. (If he weren't buried inside Luke's ass he'd roll his eyes at himself for being such a fucking  _ sap. _ )

Michael feels  _ it  _ in the pit of his stomach much too soon, and he'll be damned if he doesn't take Luke right there with him. So he grabs Luke's hips, squeezing, and angles his thrusts so he hits his prostrate head on every time.

Luke's so  _ loud _ Michael's sure the entire hotel is awake and aware of what's happening in their room, and in all honesty he's okay with it. He wants the whole  _ world _ to know this is happening. How good he's making Luke feel, how good Luke's making  _ him  _ feel. That Luke's  _ his _ and his only, at least for tonight.

“M’gonna, Michael _ ,” _ he gasps out, hands scratching urgently at the flesh of Michael's back. “Holy shit,  _ Michael _ .”

Michael nods fast, speeding up just a bit. “So close, so, so close.” he pants, not slowing for a second.

“Me too, fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ .”

“Do it, do it. Come for me, Luke.” He doesn't even care how desperate he sounds, just needs to see Luke come undone beneath him, needs to see him all blissed out.

He gets his wish a second later, watches as Luke's face screws up in complete slack jawed pleasure. Mouth wide open, eyes fluttering, a high pitched,  _ highly  _ un-manly squeal leaving his throat as he coats his stomach.

That's what does it for Michael, and he's grunting and spilling into the condom. He feels like he's coming for 30 thousand years when really it can't be more than 5 seconds (ha). By the time he's come down, Luke seems to already be half asleep.

He breathes out a shaky sigh, delicately pulling out of Luke and wincing as he groans in discomfort. “Sorry.” He gets up, discards the condom and ventures into the bathroom. He can't help the fresh wave of anxiety that washes over him as he grabs a towel and heads back to the bed.  _ What if Luke hates him now? What if that really was just a mindless fuck? A mistake? What if they've just ruined the band, their friendship, everything - ? _

Luke's still in the same position as when Michael left for the bathroom, eyes fully shut now. Michael doesn't know why he'd expected to find him gone.

He cleans Luke up using the damp towel and takes his appreciative hums as good signs that  _ okay, he doesn't seem to hate his guts so far, score. _

When he climbs back in next to Luke, he's half shocked and half not at all when he's immediately being forced into a cuddle. “Love you so much, Michael.”

Michael's eyes snap closed.  _ Okay. Whatever. Love can mean loads of things. Friendship Love. Bandmate love. Bro love.  _ “Love you, too.”

They drift off to sleep like that, Luke curled up against Michael's chest, Michael's arms wound tight around his middle, his chin resting atop his head.

(Correction:  _ Luke  _ drifts off to sleep.)

/

Michael's still wide awake at 2am. His arms numb and he's aching to switch positions but he wouldn't wake Luke up for the world.

His mind is in overdrive. The same sentence keeps on replaying in his head over and over and over again:  _ I had sex with Luke.  _ I had sex with Luke. IhadsexwithLuke I had  _ sex _ with  _ Luke _ .

“I'm awake, too.”

Michael startles. Looking down at Luke in his arms, he sees that he is indeed wide awake. He doesn't look regretful, or uncomfortable at all, which brings Michael's heart to rest.

He opens his mouth to speak, but then Luke's sighing loudly, as though he's preparing to speak himself. So Michael waits.

Luke situates himself so he's still tucked under Michael's chin but staring up at him now, his eyes wide and honest. “I'm gonna say something. And you're not allowed to mock me, okay?” Michael gulps, then nods slowly. Luke sighs shakily before continuing. “I love you. As in… like.  _ Love  _ love. I  _ love  _ you, Michael.”

Michael's breath hitches in his throat. He doesn't quite believe he heard right. If he did hear right, he must be fucking dreaming. If he were on his feet in the first place he'd have dropped right to the floor. “You… You. What.” he says dumbly.  _ Dammit. _

Luke's cheeks are bright red and he looks terrified. “I love you,” he says it quieter now, afraid, as if Michael  _ wouldn't love him right the fuck back.  _ “I… I know it was a really long time ago, and it probably didn't mean as much to you as it did to me, and you're probably over it now but… I could never forget. No matter how much I tried - I didn't  _ wanna  _ try, God, I didn't wanna ever forget. But I had to, and I couldn't. You… you made me so  _ happy _ . You were like. The light of my life. When we decided to stop it broke me up inside. I thought I'd never be okay again, because  _ you _ were the one person who made me feel okay.

The only reason I made it through was because I still got to be around you all the time, even though we didn't get to kiss and that sucked ass.” His eyes are closed now, and he looks so peaceful Michael would think he's talking in his sleep if he didn't know any better. “It got to this point where, I wanted so badly to just. To just  _ kiss  _ you, and  _ be  _ with you like we used to before everything and I couldn't handle it anymore, like, I felt like if I was around you too long at a time I'd just. Lose it and spill my feelings and that scared the shit out of me.

Whenever there was an opportunity to avoid being around you I took it. Like, when Cal or Ash wanted to hang or go out somewhere I'd always say yes no matter how badly I wanted to stay in with you because being with you when I knew I couldn't have you was awful.” He sniffs and Michael's heart does a weird painful skippy thing because Luke's crying. He's crying and he's crying for  _ Michael  _ and it makes Michael want to cry too. He wants to wrap him up and kiss away his tears and hold him forever.

“I hate parties, Michael. I get so anxious and I always end up drinking too much and the hangovers are living hell and I fucking hate them but I still went because I couldn't stand being next to you knowing I couldn't kiss you or touch you how I wanted.”  _ But you could. You could you could you could. _ “I don't know what happened tonight.” Michael's heart halts. “It just built up I guess. I wanted you so  _ bad.  _ I still want you.” It resumes beating, faster now. Luke's eyes are open now, staring up at Michael. The most earnest, genuine,  _ vulnerable  _ look he's ever seen on him.

“I'm sorry,” his voice cracks, and it makes Michael's heart crack, too. “I know we stopped doing what we were doing for the sake of our friendship and the band and you went and did the logical, right thing to do and got over me but I just  _ couldn't.” _ He's almost choking on his own tears now, and all Michael can do is squeeze him tighter because his tongue  _ won't fucking work _ right now and he can't speak. The convenience.

“I still love you, Mikey. I can't -  _ change  _ that, I  _ tried _ . I tried but nothing worked and I love you.”

Michael thinks he sees stars. Or maybe entire galaxies. The whole fucking solar system exploding right in front of him. He's not on Earth anymore, left it as soon as Luke's mouth shaped the L word.

It could be seconds, minutes, hours, maybe  _ years _ before he's finally back to Earth, in this hotel he doesn't know the name of, in his bed with Luke.  _ Luke. Fucking Luke. Luke who loves him back and has always loved him back. LukeLukeLukeLukeLukeLukeLuke. _

Before he's even aware of what's happening himself he's smashing his lips to Luke’s, rolling on top of him and practically pressing him into the mattress. It's hard and passionate and full of feeling and  _ love _ and it's the best kiss Michael's ever experienced. 

Luke's hands are everywhere all at once and Michael's putting  _ every piece of his heart  _ into kissing Luke and after a few minutes it begins tasting of salt water and it takes Michael a few moments to realise it's his and Luke's tears and he pulls away, laughing shakily as he rests his forehead against Luke's because  _ they're really both crying as they make out right now, that's how lame they are. _

Luke's mouth is red and shiny and slightly agar and his eyes are glinting. “Michael.”

“Luke.” He says his name with such emotion that his voice cracks. It's all catching up to him, but at the same time he still can't believe any of it. There's just  _ no way. _

Luke  _ loves _ him.  _ Has  _ loved him.  _ Never stopped loving him. _

Michael's absolutely positive that he doesn't need anything else from here on out - no food, no money, no nothing - because just that information alone is enough. He could starve and live homeless for all he cares, just as long as he had what's in front of him right now, that would be enough.

He's hit then, for about the billionth time but somehow harder now, with how much he fucking loves the boy beneath him, and then the realisation that he's yet to say it back to Luke hits him, too. He quickly changes that.

“I love you, Luke, I fucking love you,” he says it almost aggressively, leaning down to press his lips to Luke's every few words. “I love you more than anything, okay? Fuck, I love you. I love you I love you I love you.”

Luke's full on sobbing by the last  _ I love you _ , and Michael brings his hands up to his cheeks, drying them and then proceeding to kiss all over his face. His cheeks, his nose, his eyes and the space between them, his forehead. And then his mouth again, where he lingers the longest.

He doesn't want to, but he pulls away from the kiss so that he can look him in his eyes. He grins.

”Love me like you did?” he raises a single brow, hoping Luke catches on.

He does. “Would you give me anything?” he's giggling. Michael loves him so fucking much.

“Yes.” He kisses him hard again, relishing in how Luke kisses back immediately, no hesitation.

“Never stopped loving you, you moron,” Luke gasps out between kisses. “Loved you even when you hated me.”

“Never hated you.” He presses their lips back together right after he says this, so that Luke won't have a chance to make fun of him. But in all honesty, he wouldn't mind if Luke teased him for it. He'll tease him right back.

They keep on kissing for Michael doesn't know how long, only pulling apart for air when they need it but Michael mostly just settled for breathing through his nose because (as much as he hates himself for being a massive fucking sap and even thinking this) kissing Luke is so much better than oxygen. Hell. It  _ is  _ his oxygen and he'd gone without it for so damn long and he finally has it back now.

It won't be easy, being together like this, because nothing ever is. Things are going to get tough because that's how life goes and there is nothing either of them can do about it. But all Michael knows is that what he feels for Luke is worth every single hardship coming their way. He isn't letting go again - he already gave in once to fear. He won't let it happen again. He won't let Luke go again. He'll let everything go if he has to, he doesn't care as long as he gets to keep Luke.

Things change, things  _ have _ to change. But some things - like Luke's taste on his tongue, how great it feels to have him in his arms, and the love they share - never do.

And Michael's more than okay with that.

_ (The darkest night never felt so bright.) _

**Author's Note:**

> ... *nervous smile*


End file.
